Glen Hirshberg's Blog - Posts Tagged "johnny-depp"
The Lone Ranger
T.R.U.E., Week of 7/29, Post #3:
The Lone Ranger
Innocence is not always a synonym for stupidity, or even naivete. It doesn't always equate with childhood, or evoke nostalgia. Sometimes innocence is just guileless exuberance. Wide-eyed engagement. Capacity for wonder.
All of which is my fumbling, preemptive run-up to the following question:
What on earth were all of you whining about concerning "The Lone Ranger"?
Ridiculous? Well, yeah, from the incomprehensible (so...Tonto is a living mannequin? Or he came to life? Or the kid dreamed him, complete with dead-bird headdress and old-man wrinkles?) and charming framing story on down. But not more so than your Marvel of choice; just less laden with Sturm und drang, and also more marvelous. No more so than those Hong Kong warriors-on-wires epics so many of you profess to love (and me, too, and this is very nearly as balletic, and probably more coherent).
But in its faithfulness to the origin story, its unabashed sense of justice, this "The Lone Ranger" is every bit as sweet as the much-lauded "The Rocketeer," just less self-conscious. With its cannibal-Butch Cavendish and dragon-breath steam trains, it's as vividly stylized as "Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow," just with less Angelina Jolie and better writing. And except for his casting in the first place, the only thing derogatory about Johnny Depp's performance is...nope, there's nothing derogatory about that performance. I know I'm not supposed to be the one to say. I'm saying it anyway.
Also, when he feels like it, Johnny Depp is the funniest screen comedian of our era. No one else even comes close. The guy is Cary Grant funny. Charlie Chaplin funny.
My parents, and especially my dad, have often referred, glowingly, to the Saturday Morning Serial era, to the kinds of Saturdays those serials triggered with their friends in their neighborhoods. I wasn't there, so I have no idea how closely this movie captures that spirit, assuming that spirit actually existed, isn't an invention of memory, like most remembered spirits. But I'm pretty sure that whatever that feeling was, this is it.
The Lone Ranger
Innocence is not always a synonym for stupidity, or even naivete. It doesn't always equate with childhood, or evoke nostalgia. Sometimes innocence is just guileless exuberance. Wide-eyed engagement. Capacity for wonder.
All of which is my fumbling, preemptive run-up to the following question:
What on earth were all of you whining about concerning "The Lone Ranger"?
Ridiculous? Well, yeah, from the incomprehensible (so...Tonto is a living mannequin? Or he came to life? Or the kid dreamed him, complete with dead-bird headdress and old-man wrinkles?) and charming framing story on down. But not more so than your Marvel of choice; just less laden with Sturm und drang, and also more marvelous. No more so than those Hong Kong warriors-on-wires epics so many of you profess to love (and me, too, and this is very nearly as balletic, and probably more coherent).
But in its faithfulness to the origin story, its unabashed sense of justice, this "The Lone Ranger" is every bit as sweet as the much-lauded "The Rocketeer," just less self-conscious. With its cannibal-Butch Cavendish and dragon-breath steam trains, it's as vividly stylized as "Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow," just with less Angelina Jolie and better writing. And except for his casting in the first place, the only thing derogatory about Johnny Depp's performance is...nope, there's nothing derogatory about that performance. I know I'm not supposed to be the one to say. I'm saying it anyway.
Also, when he feels like it, Johnny Depp is the funniest screen comedian of our era. No one else even comes close. The guy is Cary Grant funny. Charlie Chaplin funny.
My parents, and especially my dad, have often referred, glowingly, to the Saturday Morning Serial era, to the kinds of Saturdays those serials triggered with their friends in their neighborhoods. I wasn't there, so I have no idea how closely this movie captures that spirit, assuming that spirit actually existed, isn't an invention of memory, like most remembered spirits. But I'm pretty sure that whatever that feeling was, this is it.
